And Thus to Dream
by nightstalkerlove
Summary: Abbie has a disturbing dream of the Sandman and Ichabod is there to comfort her. *Author's NOTE: I know it is Lieutenant. However, the British pronounce it Leftenant. I wish to keep that charm, so I chose to spell it the way it is pronounced in the show. Comments whining about that will be deleted. As will pm's. Thank you.*
1. Chapter 1

The crash from her caffeine high augmented her exhaustion considerably. Lieutenant Abbie Mills felt her body move in sluggish, sloppy movements divorced from her swift and concise, cat-like rhythm. She rubbed her eyes, not caring if her makeup smudged. After the day she had managed to live through, she had earned the right to look like a raccoon and not care. She plopped into her chair and promptly propped her head in her hand as the dim light of her desk lamp burned her agitated eyes. Instantly, her hands went up, checking to ensure her eyes hadn't turned to sand as she'd seen occur earlier that day to two people. She sighed, satisfied with her findings and hung her head, putting a hand to her chest in a vain attempt to steady her erratic heart.

"Leftenant?" A deep, smooth English accent wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She smiled to herself as she looked up into the concerned blue eyes of her new companion, Ichabod Crane, who stood holding two glasses of water. "Are you well?"

"I'm just fine, Crane. Thank you." She took a glass he extended to her and sipped the cool liquid gratefully. She regarded him thoughtfully. "We're both tired and in need of a long, hot bath."

Crane frowned slightly as he put a hand behind his back, giving him an almost regal appearance as he considered the idea of modern day bathing. He took a sip of water and set the glass on the edge of Mill's desk. "Yes, the closet of scorching rain this era's people torture themselves with daily."

Mills chuckled, holding the glass in both her hands. "It's called a shower when it comes from the showerhead above you and the temperature can be adjusted to your liking. Come on, it's been a long day. I'll take you back to the hotel and show you how to work the shower."

"I thought you wanted a bath?" Crane watched Mills stand and walk past him despite his confused expression. He paused a moment longer and hurried to the door. He held it open for her and proceeded to walk a step ahead of her to her assigned police cruiser that sat alone in the parking lot. After a moment of fumbling with the handle on the driver's side, he threw a curious look at her. "It refuses to open. How is this possible?"

"Locked car door: one, Ichabod Crane: zero." Mills laughed as she unlocked the door and got into her seat. She glanced into the rear view mirror as Crane went around to his side. When she adjusted the mirror, empty, blackened sockets stared back at her. The creatures pale skin glowed in the moon light as its grossly elongated fingers reached for her, its claws scratching her skin. She screamed and twisted in her seat to stare at the empty back seat.

"Leftenant? What is it?" Crane peered into the empty seats then back at the startled officer. "There is nothing there, Miss Mills."

"I saw him, Crane. I swear it. He was right there!" She turned in her seat and clasped her hands over her eyes as though she were protecting them from turning to sand. She felt Crane sink into his seat and his warm hand upon her shoulder.

"You've nothing to fear, Miss Mills. You successfully vanquished Ro'kenhrontyes. The nightmare is over."

She looked over to him and raised a brow. "What about the next bad dude that comes to help the horseman? If this Rock… Rocky… the Sandman could mess with people so badly, I almost don't want to know what the next guy can do."

"For this evening, Miss Mills, the worst is over. Dawn is upon us and with the light comes peace. We must rest and prepare for our next engagement." He gave her a comforting smile. He watched as she turned the vehicle on and put on her seat belt. He followed suit as she eased the vehicle out of the parking lot so as not to startle him.


	2. Chapter 2

The foggy highway was pleasantly deserted as Mills drove, allowing Crane to exercise his power of curiosity by playing with the radio. His painfully slow turning of the knob the community college station to jazz to public radio to classical station would have had her skin crawling within a half second. Her ninja reflexes to repossess dominion over the radio would have shocked anyone who dared change her Hot 97. It was the only station she listened to for sanity maintenance when she was on lunch and had been dealing with a stressful day.

Crane glanced at his companion as he twisted the volume knob far to the right quickly. His blue eyes went wide as he twisted the knob the opposite way until the country station he'd found was barely audible. He looked apologetically to Mills and sat back when she did not return his gaze or reprimand him.

"Your vision has disturbed you, Leftenant."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Mills glanced out of Crane's window at the wall of trees that blocked the street view of the golf course and shivered. "I've lived here all my life. Never once did I worry about things that go bump in the night. Freddy Krueger didn't scare me even when I did watch that stupid movie alone when I was a kid. Now, I'm afraid of what I _think_ I see in the mirror. It's like I'm stuck in a really bad dream and I'm not waking up. One of the four horsemen of the apocalypse is in Sleepy Hollow of all places. I never thought the Hollow would be the epicenter of a doomsday scenario. In movies, it always starts in New York City, or in Los Angeles or in Washington DC. It never starts in small farm towns hours away from a major city."

Crane narrowed his eyes. "Los Angeles. Is that a modern day Indian name?"

"It's Spanish. It's in California, which is on the other side of the country next to a whole other ocean." She sighed heavily as the vehicle neared the Tarrytown Reservoir+. "It's too quiet out tonight. It's like people subconsciously know something is horribly wrong but they don't know what it is or how to make it right."

Crane stared out of his window, watching the passing forest that was eerily illuminated by the full moon. "This night is no different than those I knew from my previous life. However, those days we were growing less concerned with vampires and ghouls, and more afraid of the Hessians and the Redcoats attacking at night when we were all more vulnerable."

"There was more than one Hessian? Were they all like Headless?"

"Indeed. There were roughly 30,000 Hessians hired by the British to fight in the War. They were a most fearsome army. They had no fear and had been bred from childhood to be an unstoppable force." Crane allowed his head to rest against the seat as he yawned into the back of his hand.

Mills pulled into the parking lot of the LaQuinta where Crane had temporarily been put up at. She shut the vehicle off and stared at the dimly lit building as Crane stifled another yawn. "Thank you."

Crane raised a brow and turned slightly towards her. "For what?"

"For everything today." She rolled her eyes in gratitude as she gave a low chuckle. "You're not like guys these days. If one of my ex-boyfriends had been at the Gillespie Ranch this afternoon instead of you and heard the gunshots, he would have hidden. You came to make sure I was okay and to help me if I needed it even though you weren't armed. You drank that tea and let a scorpion sting you just so you could go into an alternative universe to protect me from the Sandman."

"Your energy drink, and perhaps sheer exhaustion, have made you not yourself tonight, Miss Mills." Crane unbuckled his seatbelt and stared at the door handle for a moment before remembering how it functioned and opening the door. He set one foot on the ground before looking back over at her as she watched him with a soft gaze. "In any case, you are most welcome."

Mills got out of the car and led Crane up the stairs to his room. She looked back at him expectantly and gawked as he attempted to open the door. "You need the room key to unlock it."

"A room key?" Crane frowned down at her as her eyes slid shut.

"Patt must still have it from when he watched your door this morning." She sighed and rubbed her brow with the pads of her fingers. She shrugged and threw her hands out dramatically. "I guess there's nowhere else for you to go except my place."

"Miss Mills, that would be inappropriate." He held his hands behind his back. "You are a single female, I am a married man. It would be scandalous."

"Things are different now. Much different. Come on." She trudged down the stairs to her car and smiled when Crane appeared to open her door and stood to the side to allow her space to get in then closed the door for her. "Katrina, you lucky witch."


	3. Chapter 3

Mills pulled into the garage of her two story red brick house and turned the vehicle off as Crane stared up at the structure as she regarded him thoughtfully. The bags under his eyes were dark and puffy, his blue eyes were blood shot from exhaustion, and even his hair looked limp. She smirked inwardly as she realized he probably didn't realize washing his hair was part of modern day bathing. She opened the door and waited patiently for him to follow her suit before closing the door.

"This is it." She shrugged as she locked and alarmed the vehicle then led him up the red brick pathway. "It's not much, but it's something and it's the only thing I owe outright."

"One should never apologize for a modest abode." Crane said with conviction as he followed her with his hands behind his back as he took in the tree he remembered being not much more than a seedling when he first arrived in Sleepy Hollow proudly wearing his own redcoat. The shrubs lined up under the windows were a new addition as was the modernized gas street lamp lighting their way from the slender sidewalk. "You earned your home through honest work and determination. That is always something to be proud of."

Mills grinned up at him as she unlocked the door, stepped inside and turned the light on. The interior of the home was painted in a warm, caramelized orange tint with a rich brown sofa and matching sitting chair framing a dark wood coffee table and a stone fireplace as the accent piece. Crane wandered inside, taking it all in with a slight smile playing on his lips. He went to the fireplace, thankful for something more familiar to him and studied the candles. Mills stepped up next to him, her heart beginning to race with the fear of judgment teasing her mind.

"I call it classy clutter." She nodded to the pair of hurricane vases with dismantled grapevine wreaths hugging a pillar candle and topped with a layer of acorns. Between the vases were a set of three oranges that each had a tea light tucked into the top of it with cloves surrounding the candle. "I guess you could call it homemade aromatics."

"It's quite creative and beautiful. A hobby such as this is beneficial to one with a stressful profession such as yours." Crane looked over to the petite woman beside him as she glanced down at the hearth.

"Before you and Headless came into my life, chasing geese or calming spooked horses was about as stressful as things got around here. That's why I was leaving. I wanted a challenge. Something to channel my energy into. To make a difference." Mills side and ran a hand through her hair. "Sure, there were more serious crimes that happened, but they were few and far between. It was almost like they only happened in a dream. Now, we have five people brutally murdered within a month. I'm still waiting to wake up."

"I am sorry for your stress, Miss Mills. If I could, I would most definitely do anything I could to relieve you of it." Crane gave a slight bow to her as she lost herself in his bright blue eyes. She licked her full lips as her heart fluttered in her chest for a different reason.

"Don't be sorry. I wasn't careful for what I wished for. I think I might have some of my ex's clothes that might fit you so I can wash those properly." She went to the hall closet and drummed her fingers on the door as she searched. "Here they are. You can keep these if you like them. You can take a shower while I get some dinner going."

Crane took the set of clothes from him and followed her to the bathroom. He carefully watched her as she sat on the edge of the tub and show him how to adjust the temperature and pressure of the water. She showed him the different liquid After she left and pulled the door ajar, he stripped off his clothes and slipped them hesitantly through the door to her. He cleared his throat and freed his hair from the leather strap before turning to the shower, ready to master the task.

Mills stood before the washer, staring at the unlaced shirt while wondering how to wash the old cloth without destroying it. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of strangely intoxicating manly musk and organic hotel soap.

"Woah, okay, Abbie. Take a moment and get yourself together. He's married and she's one hell of a powerful witch. That is one thing you do _not_ want to mess with." She looked up at the shelf of cleaning supplies, dismissing each detergent as being too harsh until she came across a light blue container her foster mother had given to her to care for the heirloom lace tablecloth. "Well, it won't hurt to try."

She began to soak the clothing then turned her attention to making dinner.

Crane ran a brush through his hair and stared at himself in the foggy mirror as the orange, cream and cranberry colored miniature candles nestled into a stone bowl filled with pebbles flickered. He frowned at his reflection now dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. Compared to the last set of clothing he wore, these were considerably more comfortable against his skin, though he could not help feeling socially unpresentable. He pulled half of his hair up and tied it back with the worn leather strap then walked out towards the dining room where Mills was setting a serving bowl and a platter on the table. She looked up at him and shrugged as she stuffed her hands into her pockets.

"Nothing special. Tomato soup and my twist on grilled cheese." She ladled the soup into a bowl and handed it to him, then filled her own bowl and sat down. She tried to focus on her meal, constantly reminding herself that he was firmly off limits, yet her eyes repeatedly found themselves taking him all in. His soft brown hair that hung in his face, his neatly trimmed beard, and his pronounced clavicle that stood out under the shirt and his lean, muscular arms. Her breathing steadily grew rapid and her mouth grew moist as she forced herself to eat, cursing her animalistic instincts. She licked her lips and pursed them together as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"I can clearly make out bacon, a sweet apple, Gouda and Havarti cheeses with something acidic and slightly spicy." He narrowed his eyes as he thought, chewing slowly as he did.

"That would be mustard."

"Mustard. Hmm." He smirked devilishly at the sandwich then back at Mills. "Miss Mills, this supper is quite amazing."

_So are you, Ichabod._ Mills gazed softly upon him as he went back to his meal as though it was a fancy dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

Mills dunked her sandwich into the soup and took a bite as Crane's sentence faded away. A wispy fog curled around her shoulder and crept down her arm, growing thicker as it went until it completely enveloped the table. Her brow knitted as she looked up only to realize she was alone in a forest.

"Okay, Abbie. You're dreaming. It's just a bad dream because your nerves are frayed, you've overworked yourself and your whole world is upside down. You're like Alice in Wonderland nightmare style." She took a deep breath and wandered deeper into the woods. "Sandy's gone, he won't come back. Stop psyching yourself out. You're just fine. The worst thing you'll see here is a deer."

The farther in she went, the darker it became. She instinctively put her hand to her hip where her gun was normally holstered but all she felt were her leggings.

"You're doing this to yourself, Abbie. This is a lucid dream. You control this. Think happy things. Dogs, cats… koala bears." She took a deep, shuddering breath as a gust of icy wind swirled around her, sending a painful wave of goosebumps around her torso. She looked up at snow began to fall in its eerily quiet way around her. "Snow is good. Snow… comes around Christmas and Thanksgiving. That one time when you were a kid and Dad showed you how to make a snow angel. You're doing good, kid."

She paused when Corbin's voice calling her 'kid' came slamming into the forefront of her mind.

"He's in a better place." She sniffled as her throat contracted in a vain effort to hold back tears. She swallowed hard and put a hand to her chest. "C'mon. Ponies, fawns… screw it, Ichabod."

"I'm here, Miss Mills." Crane's deep voice was tender as he spoke.

Mills gasped as she turned around, her skin burning with embarrassment to see Crane standing behind her. She took in his light brown hair all neatly tied back, the dark blue neck tie that was tucked into the matching dark blue vest. The same cloth shaped into a frock coat hugged his slender form and squared his shoulders. "Well, look at you all dolled up. We won the war. Remember?"

"Yet another war has begun. You and I are on the front line, alone." His eyes shifted over her shoulder and he raised his flintlock pistol and fired. A cloud of smoke swallowed Crane, leaving Mills to cough and wave away the burnt gunpowder stench around her.

"Okay, next is going to be Katrina, hexing me for feeling anything intimate for Ichabod." She turned and came face to face with a being with black eyes rimmed with red and its mouth crudely sewn shut. She gasped as she stepped back away from the creature, examining its burnt red skin while watching it move. It took a step forward, its skin cracking open with each slight movement. "What the hell are you?"

It slowly tilted its head until the skin broke and the head fell to the ground and  
rolled towards Mills only to have turned to ash a short way down the slight slope. Mills looked from the head to the body that twitched as though it were seizing then imploded into fire. From the flames came a spiked black gloved hand. Bit by bit, the body came through and stood before Mills. She took in the black armor and the horned helmet that hid the being's face.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what you…." Before she could finish her sentence, the being grabbed her throat and clutched it with an unnatural force. She felt her feet leave the ground as she struggled against the hand, her nails digging into her skin, not caring if she drew blood.

"I am Famine." One of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse growled into her face as it clutched tighter. She felt her hyoid bone cracking as the world faded to black.

Mills' scream made Crane bolt upright in the tempur-pedic bed. He grabbed the baseball bat from behind the door and went to her room. He opened the door and looked around the room illuminated by the light of the full moon, ready to slam the rod of steel into the skull of his friend's assailant. His heart rate slowed to a normal pace when he found they were alone. He set the bat down and went to his friend, unsure of how to proceed while preserving decorum. He took a deep breath and went to Mill's side as she screamed and struggled against an unseen force.

"Miss Mills." He licked his lips and shifted his weight to his other foot. He cleared his throat and touched the comforter that was twisted and halfway off the bed. She kicked as hard as she could while her hands reached out for nothing. Crane gripped her wrists to keep them from inadvertently striking him. "Abbie!"

Her chocolate eyes flew open and she sat up. She looked around, catching her breath before pulling a knee up and resting her arm on it. "Sorry for waking you up."

Crane frowned and took a deep breath. "What did you dream of?"

Mills lowered her head, ashamed of the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her finger tips and sniffled. "Famine. He walked through fire and grabbed my throat and started to strangle me. I felt like I was dying."

"He cannot, nor shall he hurt you, while I am near. I promise you that." He hesitated a moment, then laid his hand on her shoulder gently. She stifled a sob and put her hand over his, leaning her head against his arm, grateful for the heat his body generated. She yawned and nuzzled her head against him, clinging now with both of her hands.

"Thank you, Ichabod. You're the best guy I've ever met." She sat up, taking in his gentle eyes watching her carefully as she shifted onto her knees and cupped his cheeks. His eyes grew wide in misunderstanding a second before she brushed her lips against his as softly as she could. She took a shuddering breath a millimeter from his supple skin before kissing him again, more passionately this time. He put his hands on her elbows and pulled away from her.

"Miss Mills, I am sorry. Katrina is with me still, in my mind, in my heart and in my soul." He stepped away from her, letting her arms fall heavily to her side. "I wish you happier dreams. Good night."

He turned and left her room, leaving her embarrassed and disgusted with herself. She dropped back on to her bed and turned to her side, allowing her tears to fall steadily.

"Well done, Abbie. Real smooth." She rolled her eyes and stared out the window as she pulled a pillow closer to her mouth to muffle her sobs.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Mills stared at her reflection in the steamed mirror, holding the wand of mascara in midair. She sighed and shook her head then swiped the waxy material over her lashes several times while listening to the rubber duck shaped radio settled into the corner of the bathtub. The unnerving number of decapitations and the rumor of a burnt woman breaking into a well to-do family's house had sent the small town of Sleepy Hollow into a mass panic. The highways were backed up and already three vehicular accidents had occurred. A child was in the emergency room in critical condition and a single mother recently unemployed now had overwhelming hospital bills to contend with.

Irving would soon be demanding to be able to physically see progress. He would want to see at least a suspect in the murders behind bars. He would want to see the burnt woman who had stolen an urn of ashes charged with breaking and entering and theft. She knew that soon enough, being kept in the dark about what she and Crane were up to would no longer make him content.

She could write her reports up. She would most definitely be put under psychiatric observation. Who knows what would happen to Crane. He would be considered much worse off than she was by anyone who listened to his story.

The television in the living room came on and within a moment, the volume was at full tilt. Mills sighed and dropped her head as she imagined Crane struggling to control the remote. She glanced at herself once more in the mirror and wandered out into the living room to find Crane sitting on the edge of the couch, pressing every button he could. She took the remote from him and turned the volume down to an acceptable level.

"It's this button." She showed him patiently as the tension became tangible between them and stepped back from him. She tapped her fingers against her thigh and went into the kitchen. She began making coffee and then went to the refrigerator to scrounge for food. When Crane's boots sounded his arrival, she glanced over the refrigerator door as she stooped to check how many eggs she still had.

"Miss Mills, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I believe it would be best, for the both of us, if I were to find quarters some place else." He held his hands behind his back and watched her expression for a clue as to how to proceed. "Perhaps Corbin's cabin would be acceptable as it is currently unoccupied."

Mills swallowed hard and ducked her head to hide her embarrassment. She regained her composure and closed the door, slowly nodding as she did. "That would be good. Come on. We'll have to go to the store to get you some stuff to last you a while. We should get you some new clothes too. I only had a couple of shirts and a pair of pants. That won't be enough to get you through the week."

"While I appreciate the gesture, I'm perfectly capable of cleaning these. My wife made these for me and they're the only tangible things I have to remember her by." He rubbed his ring finger affectionately. "I lost my wedding ring at some point during the second winter in Morristown. I meant to purchase another one when I arrived in Albany for a mission, however, I did not get the opportunity thanks to our mutual foe, the Headless Horseman."

Mills' stoic face softened as she poured them each a thermos full of coffee. She handed one to Crane and led him out the door. The air burned her skin as she unlocked the doors and paused for a moment, waiting for Crane to open the door for her. She glanced over and saw him drawing the seatbelt across his broad chest. Her heart clenched but she kept her sobriety as she got into the car and started it up. She put the thermos in the cup holder and turned the heater as high as it would go while Crane stared out the window.

"So, how did you and Katrina meet?"

"Miss Mills, my personal life has no bearing on our current conquest. I wish to remain focused until we find a way to cut down the horsemen of the Apocalypse once and for all." He studied the cap of the thermos and ran the pad of his finger over it curiously. "I have a theory I am researching about just how to accomplish that."

"What is it?"

Crane glanced at her then out his window, warming his hands against the thermos as he licked his cherry red lips. "I'm not quite ready to speak of it. I'm sure there are alternatives to my proposal."

"It must be really intense. You sound… sad about it."

"It is not an option I am a proponent of, but it may be the only option. Other avenues must be explored before drastic measures are taken."

Mills looked over to see him stare at his bare finger before looking out the window.

Luke watched Mills' SUV roll into her usual parking spot. He crossed his muscular arms as he watched her step out and alarm the vehicle. He raised a brow as she walked towards him with a fast food sandwich in one hand and her thermos in the other.

"No Captain America?" He smirked at Crane's nickname.

"Nope. No need for him to come in with me this morning. Nothing weird has happened yet." She huffed when Luke opened the door for her. "Alright. Let's get something straight. He does it because he doesn't know how to be a jerk. You do, so drop the act."

"Who peed in your coffee this morning? I'm just trying to be nice." He took in her preoccupied gaze and allowed the door to glide shut. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Who said anything was wrong?"

"Abbie, we were together for three years. I know that look. Just tell me. Maybe I can help." He brushed her hair gently behind her ear, letting his warm hand brush against her chilled skin. He opened the door and put a hand on the small of her back to guide her in. She sighed and stepped into the pleasantly warm building gratefully. She stepped closer to Luke to take in the warmth his body radiated as they walked slowly past the receptionist and to Mills' desk. "So, what's weighing on your mind?"

"It's Crane."

Luke's warm eyes grew hard as his muscular body grew taught. "Did he hurt you? I swear he will regret ever even stepping foot in Sleepy Hollow by the time I'm done if he's hurt you."

Mills' smiled softly at him and put a hand on his fist. "He didn't hurt me. I promise. Something personal happened to him last night and this morning he sounded sad but he wouldn't tell me what happened and it's got me a bit worried about him. That's all."

Luke shook his head and glared at the red brick wall as he rapped his knuckles against her desk he leaned against. "This guy is suspicious. He shows up out of nowhere, is a suspect in Corbin's murder, is just weird in general and now he's… what?... your partner or something? It makes no sense. The town is talking about him and not one person seems to know him. Why is he here? Why are you protecting him?"

"Your jealousy is just one of the reasons we didn't work." Mills' motioned between them. "He's a professor here from Oxford."

"Why Sleepy Hollow? Why does someone from England know about the Hollow when people in… I don't know… New Mexico don't know this place exists?" He fixed his gaze upon her and heaved a sigh. "This guy is up to something. I don't know what it is, but I am going to find out what it is. I've already dug up some interesting dirt on him. I don't want to see you get caught up in whatever it is he's up to. I still care about you a lot, Abbie."

"You wouldn't believe the truth even if it smacked you upside the head." She sat down at her desk and turned on her computer.

Luke nodded as he walked around the desk and crouched beside her despite her ignoring him. He opened his mouth and hesitated a moment before speaking softly to her. "Something personal happened to him? Maybe he found out his girlfriend had his kid."

"What are you talking about?" Mills scowled over to him, turning slightly in her chair. "He's married."

"Face it, Abbie. He lied to us. He lied to us and passed a polygraph while doing it. So, what else is he hiding?" Luke stood and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm here whenever you feel like coming back to the real world."

She watched him walk to his desk then picked up her phone. She dialed a number quickly and glanced towards Irving's darkened office.

"New York State Library. Genealogy department. This is Kimi. How can I assist you today?" A sweet and upbeat voice greeted her.

"Kim, it's Abbie. Can you do me a huge favor? I found an interesting individual and I wanted some information on him. Would you be able to look into it for me?" She glanced over to Luke and pulled up her email to make herself look busy. "His name is Ichabod Crane and he's from England. Born around 1749 or so."

"Sure. Is historical figures a new hobby for you?"

"I recently took an interest in the Revolutionary War."

"Well, yeah. Alright." Kimi's voice became uncertain as she spoke. "Things have been a bit slow around here lately. I'll take a look into it and email you what I find."

"Thanks. I owe you." She hung up and stared at a list of emails on her screen. Many of them concerned Crane, the murders, a conspiracy theory. All of them asked if they were safe or what they could do to remain safe. She pressed her knuckles to her lips as her mind reeled.

"Abbie." Luke's voice brought her back to reality. "Something weird just happened at Constance McCrary's house. Her neighbor is saying the Devil himself is there."


End file.
